


Le Bear Polar et Captain Crieff

by skywriter123



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Arguments, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, M/M, douglas is a jerk, marlas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywriter123/pseuds/skywriter123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU of the episode Quikiktarjuaq season 3 ep 1 (?)<br/>What if Martin reacted differently to Douglas's prank? This starts with a couple of lines from the ep directly then completely goes off in a different way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Le Bear Polar et Captain Crieff

**Author's Note:**

> This was beta-ed by the lovely Mimirou without which this would suck

As the red intercom light clicked off, Martin all but threw himself into the back of the captain’s chair, shaking from a mixture of suppressed rage and something else he couldn’t quite place. He sat still for a moment, completely silent with his face flushed and lips trembling slightly. He swallowed hard and turned to face Douglas, to yell at him, to snarl, to do anything but let those stinging tears fall.

“Thanks, thanks a lot.” Martin’s voice was shaky. “You, you just had to do that, didn’t you? I just wanted one person, one stranger, to take me seriously…” he trailed off, shaking his head as tears slipped through his closed eyelids. “No, that’s not even it, if I’m to be honest. Well, not all of it, at least.” Martin rambled a little, voice cracking as he turned away from Douglas’s smug face, his thumb discreetly planted on the mute button. The smirk of mirth on Douglas’s face faded as Martin took another shuddering breath before continuing. 

“I just wanted, and this is bloody pathetic, I wanted a second, a second where I didn’t have to remind myself that I’m actually in the correct seat and that I’m the captain! That I am, in the loosest of technicalities, the superior officer!” He let out a broken laugh, not a shred of humor in his voice. His shoulders shook slightly as he looked down. “Who’m I kidding…” he muttered, wiping at his eyes. “I’m not a professional… I’m not even paid… I’m just a little man with a van and a ridiculous hat.” Martin now allowed the tears to fall free for just a minute before giving an almighty sniff and straightening back up in a parody of his normal, stick straight posture. 

Douglas looked on, guilt building. Martin looked absolutely destroyed. It was a joke, only a joke.

“Martin,” Douglas began, but Martin cut him off.

“Save it, Douglas. Let’s just find those bloody polar bears.” 

There was nothing but tense silence on the flight deck, broken only by the sound of GERTI’s engines and Martin’s occasional sniff for the next hour or so.  
“The intercom wasn’t on, Martin.” Douglas said quietly, flicking the switch on the intercom so it was off completely, despite the glowing red light. 

“But you just turned it on again!” Martin exclaimed, voice rising an octave.

“While you were playing ‘Hunt the Lemon’, I switched the LED round. No one heard but you and me.” 

“Oh…” Martin was quiet for a moment before releasing a long, shaky breath. “Another joke… should’ve known.”

Douglas felt… odd. This wasn’t how Martin was supposed to act. Martin was supposed to whine and groan about Douglas’s pranks, not just… sit there, like a kicked puppy dreading more retribution. Martin barely moved at all, in fact. When GERTI’s nose tipped down to chase ‘le bears polar’ he didn’t even flinch, seemingly lost in his own world. His eyes glazed over, staring but not seeing the control panels. Martin spoke only the absolutely necessary amount for the proper landing procedures and didn’t speak when Douglas asked him if he wished to speak to ATC upon landing. When he did speak, to ask Douglas to balance the fuel, his voice was cracked, each note trembling. 

Once safely on the ground, Martin rushed through the post landing checks, his watery eyes hurriedly flicking towards Douglas before swiftly averting again.  
“Martin.” Martin looked up, waiting for Douglas to elaborate, muscles tense.

“Perhaps that was a bit… uncalled for…” he allowed time for Martin to begin to rant, explode even, citing rules and regulations for proper, professional behavior. Martin did open his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Instead, Martin merely reached up to doff his cap and Douglas winced, remembering the lemon’s location. Martin stayed motionless, staring at the offending fruit.

“You found it!” Douglas attempted a jovial tone which ended up sounding (in Douglas’s opinion) quite desperate. 

“Oh…” There was that breathy sigh, the syllable tinged with enough hurt to send spirals of guilt shooting through Douglas. It had been a joke, hadn’t it?

“Good evening, my dear pilots!” Carolyn announced, entering the flight deck, a wild Arthur trailing behind her.

“Oh, Martin, you found the lemon!”

“Well done, Skip!”

“Right… right…” Martin murmured before getting ahold of himself. “Where’s the hotel, Carolyn?”

“You’re sitting in it,” she replied, wicked glint in her eye.

“What!?” Both Douglas and Martin bellowed, forgetting their dispute for the moment.

“Unsurprisingly, the hotel is booked fully. The one hotel within the next hundred kilometers or so. So, we sleep in GERTI. Simple.”

“What!?” Douglas and Martin bellowed once more, overpowering Arthur’s cry of “Brilliant!”

“No way in hell!” Douglas growled. At the same time, Martin shouted “Good God no!”

“But, Skip, Douglas, it’ll be like a slumber party! It’ll be-“

“Arthur, I would refrain from calling this brilliant if you wish to survive the night.” Douglas snarled.

“But it will be brilliant, Douglas!” Arthur protested.

“No, it won’t.” Martin sighed, rubbing at his forehead.

“Brilliant or not, it is happening. Rest up, we leave tomorrow! And, Arthur? You aren’t to visit the flight deck; they need their sleep to legally fly tomorrow.” Carolyn gave them a look that clearly said “get over your spat, or else”. 

Arthur groaned, “Muuuuuuum,” but complied and they both left, allowing the flight deck door to close behind them.

“Can’t believe this…” Douglas muttered. Martin merely nodded, settling back into his chair.

“What, aren’t you going to spout CAA reg.?” Douglas knew that was a bit unfair but he was grumpy and had to sleep on a bloody flight deck for God’s sake.

“No… pointless really…” Douglas frowned. Martin had reached the same level of apathy as Carl from Fitton ATC on one of his bad days.

“Martin, I apologized,” Douglas said impatiently, pulling off his jacket and undoing his tie. This night would be even worse if Douglas didn’t even have a partner for word games, no matter Martin’s losing streak.

“When?” Martin asked quietly, glancing over at the rustle of Douglas’s jacket. Without the bulky blazer, Douglas’s arms were toned, Martin noted, and while his biceps weren’t bulging, they weren’t terrible to look at either, and a patch of his throat appeared as he undid one of the buttons on his… no, Martin mustn’t think that way. Not now.  
“Well, just a few minutes ago,” Douglas said, frowning.

Martin laughed bitterly. “That was an apology?” You didn’t even say ‘sorry’ you just supposed it was uncalled for!”  
“Fine.” Douglas breathed out heavily through his nose. “Martin, I’m sorry.”

Martin looked like he was about to fight back more, even ask “what for?” but ultimately decided against it.

“Well?” Douglas prompted after a moment.

“Well, what?”

“Aren’t you going to forgive me?” Douglas grew more weary. This was still unlike Martin and he was certainly not in the mood to keep dragging this along. It would make the night go even slower and no one likes to be stuck in a small metal room with someone they’re fighting with. But he’d be damned if he was going to be the one to give in. It had been a joke, albeit in bad taste, but nothing Martin couldn’t handle, Douglas was sure.

“I don’t though… not yet.”

“Martin, quit being so childish!” Snapped Douglas.

“Childish? Me?!” Martin’s voice grew dangerously close to an indignant squeak. He twisted around fully to face Douglas. “I’m the childish one?! After you taped a bloody lemon to my hat!?”

“You didn’t even notice!” Douglas defended.

“You still did it! How am I the childish one with you and all your jokes and tricks and schemes?!”

“Schemes? I wouldn’t call them schemes.”

“You plan an elaborate way to steal a bottle of whisky worth hundreds of pounds from your boss, yearly.” Martin said flatly. 

He has a fair point. Douglas thought, but would never admit it.

“What about you then, _sir _?” Douglas’s hackles had risen now, preparing a verbal attack.__

“’I’m the captain! I’m the captain!’” Douglas said nastily, raising the pitch of his voice to a cruel mockery of Martin’s own. 

“If you weren’t so damned desperate all the time,” Genuine shock and betrayal worked its way across Martin’s face, but Douglas continued, going in for the kill, “maybe people would actually believe you were a higher rank than steward!" 

Immediately Douglas froze, he had gone too far and he knew it. 

“People think I’m a steward?” Martin whispered, shifting in his seat, away from Douglas. 

“A… steward...” he sat fully back in his seat, pressing against the cushions and bringing his knees up to his chest, taking up as little space as possible. 

“Well, a paid one at least…” Douglas tried to kid, but winced, remembering the start of the fight, over professionalism corresponding with pay and his last comment just seemed cruel. He hadn’t intended to imply that last dig but Martin just nodded, wrapping long arms around his knees. 

“Right…” Martin sniffed quietly, once, then twice and let out a deep breath. 

“Martin-“ 

“Just… leave me alone, Douglas… please.” Martin sounded so downtrodden, so sad, so tired, the request more like a plea and Douglas felt like a terrible villain, kicking the man while he was down. 

“Martin-“ 

“Please!” Martin’s voice cracked on the shout. It wasn’t even a shout, not really, Douglas thought. It was more like a wail, even a sob and it reverberated unpleasantly around the flight deck. 

Martin tried to keep the tears from spilling, but Douglas’s words echoed inside his head. _A steward? Am I really that pathetic?_

Douglas felt more than guilty, he felt like a complete and utter arse. His ego had been wounded and was sore when Martin jabbed at it with the crack about the Talisker. He sighed. He really hadn’t meant for this argument to go so far and what he said to Martin was downright cruel. 

Believe it or not, Douglas was very fond of his stuttering captain. Martin was determined and he’d never known him to give in. He wasn’t bad to look at either. Once Helena had left him Douglas had become more and more aware of his sneaking glances towards Martin whilst in flight. High up in the clouds with no turbulence and with no crisis taking place, Martin was completely relaxed.  
His Cupid’s bow lips curved into an unconscious smile and he looked happy and at ease. As opposed to on the ground, or under a barrage of teasing or insults from either Carolyn or Douglas.  
Outside the cockpit, Martin’s life was far more difficult than he deserved, with a rickety old van and a sleeping habit rivaling the worst of insomniacs Douglas had ever known. On the odd occasion Carolyn had he and Martin share a room, the captain either fell asleep and stayed out cold within an hour or tossed and turned until exhaustion took over and lulled him to sleep. Martin clearly fared no better in his own home than in musty hotel rooms, as was obvious by the dark smudges that remained a nearly permanent fixture on his pale face. 

Douglas allowed his thoughts to wander, straying to daydreams (fantasies, he might even dare call them) of his captain completely at ease in his house, laughing at the television on Douglas’s couch before catching his eye and… 

Douglas tried to clear his mind of the thought before it transformed into the persistent fantasy that often left him longing. It wasn’t wise to be thinking of Martin like that while they were fighting, especially not after what Douglas had said. He exaggerated, of course, but the hurt look on Martin’s face… Douglas never wanted to see it again. 

The tension built as the silence reigned over the flight deck, the minutes snailing by. 

As Douglas opened his mouth to speak, Martin quickly blurted out: 

“I’m sorry, I overreacted.” 

“Martin-“ 

“I overreacted, and I’m sorry, Douglas, it was stupid of me, it was a joke, clearly,” Martin spoke rapidly, as if trying to get all the words out in a single breath. 

“Martin-“ Douglas tried again. 

“I mean, it was unprofessional of you, but I didn’t mean to accuse-“ 

“Martin!” Douglas interjected, raising his voice slightly. 

“What?” Martin looked up, hands picking at the hem of his jacket even as his frantic explanations ceased. 

“It was my fault.” Douglas announced in an unusually subdued manner. “And I do apologize.” 

“But-“ 

“I was angry and I took it out on you. There was no need for that.” A long pause. 

“Why were you so angry?” Douglas was thankful Martin didn’t yell, and that he seemed as eager as he was to end this bloody fight, but he still thought before answering his fellow pilot. 

“Helena and her Tai Chi teacher have just gotten engaged. She called me this morning with the good news.” Douglas fixed his gaze pointedly away from Martin. 

“Oh… I shouldn’t have asked…” 

“No, it’s fine. It’s all fine.” Douglas sighed. “I suppose the shared belief of the terrificness of me wasn’t going to last.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. 

“She was wrong,” Martin blurted out very suddenly before coloring and snapping his mouth shut. 

“Hmm?” 

“I-I mean to leave you, that was…” 

“Martin-“ 

“I mean, she’s lucky to have you! To have had you, I… err…” Martin’s face now rivaled the memorable fire truck of Douz airfield in color. His blue-gray eyes darted towards Douglas before looking away again. 

Douglas spotted the flush on his Captain’s face and felt very satisfied with himself for putting it there. 

It seemed their argument was resolved and now, if he played this right, this night could turn out very beneficial indeed. 

Martin was attractive in his own, slightly gawky way. The way Martin was inspired use of the word “adorable” rather than “sexy” but still, Douglas had both respect and affection for the younger man, and the prospect of starting a relationship with his Captain excited him to no end. He missed having someone to come home to and Douglas Richardson was a caretaker by nature. To see the object of his affection constantly tired and underfed, well, he didn’t enjoy it. The idea of coming home to Martin curled up on the couch, awaiting some eager snogging… 

Douglas knew the feelings were reciprocated, but was waiting to make his move, and he had spotted Martin ogling (there was really no better word for it) him earlier, before the argument began. 

“Oh, do tell me what you mean, Martin,” Douglas’s voice lowered to a purr. 

“She was lucky to have someone. Not necessarily you, but someone and to throw it away…” Douglas frowned slightly at Martin’s hesitant words, but, knowing Martin he had just phrased it wrong. 

“So, not lucky to have me as a husband? Or…” Douglas leaned a little towards Martin, “a _lover _?” Douglas faked being put out and Martin’s reaction was precisely what he wanted.__

“No! I mean, yes, but no,” Martin stood, running hands through his delightful auburn curls. Douglas stood as well, moving barely a foot away from Martin’s beautifully flushed face. 

“Martin?” 

“Yes?” Martin’s voice cracked. Douglas leaned forward even more, mere centimeters from his face and whispered: “Do shut up.” 

Their lips pressed together, brief and chaste. Martin pulled away, looking disbelievingly up at Douglas.

“D-Douglas?” 

“Hey, Chief. I might be wrong, but I think we fancy the hell out of each other. This makes me feel… elated. One thing we could do is take advantage of our confinement and snog in uninterrupted privacy. How does that sound to you?” Martin’s lips jolted forward, seeking Douglas’s eagerly and clumsily. Douglas smiled into the kiss and rested his forehead against Martin’s. 

Martin pulled away slightly and gave a mischievous grin. 

“I believe that would be the best course of action, First Officer Richardson.” 

“Then snog we shall, _mon Capitan _.”__

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, please leave some feedback!


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